Rococo Seduction
O lady, banish my monochrome days
and weave your coppery threads into
a dim red florescence of coyote words.
There you stand draped in beige chiffon
against the Tomistic piety of a striptease sea
continuously playing with creamy pastels.
O lady, gallantly unleash your plump cherubs
and licentious cats with that Guerlain
je-ne-sais-quoi witchery of your vanilla
perfume darts. Throw a rain-soaked
dusty rose like Madame Pompadour.
I am flying into the sugary abyss of setting suns.
My whole world is tinted in Bouchet’s
Prussian blue and silks of flickering coral
as the dragons keep fighting in the heavens
to bring us April showers and champagne pearls.
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